The boy very young I, And may my King of Grace
brought true love for a young girl in the house of the host a short conversation,
had not bowed her a hood or buckles yellow made ??brass,
But tape ear to Boots, she My Sweetheart is a I receives death

Large dhuitse, a bird, a léimrigh from tree to tree,
If my story meant you'd maybe you make your resolution,
Bring me a letter under seal to the wild back bhFionn rings,
my heart is both torture and I can not sleep quiet.

A wind from the south that thunder is mórshruth the River Lee,
Snow on the roads Freeze both mixing PRIEST
not miss sound seals than sweet music at birds Championships,
Oh lost the-in my darling, she would take the fog of my heart.

Not thy Gurteen barley, darling, for I gave love,
not thy few casket of yellow gold if they are full,
your horses or cattle never ever I would emphasize,
But taste to some little kiss would think I would be best.

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